


Singing My Blues

by blinking_post



Category: Big Bang (Band), Hey! Say! JUMP
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, M/M, Romance, Seungri steals the show, Top also steals the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 14:17:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5543000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blinking_post/pseuds/blinking_post
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>That first meeting with Jiyong behind FujiTV had happened by chance.  He really had walked out of that door lost like Chinen had assumed, just looking for a way out of the building so he could circle his way to the front when he stumbled into Jiyong, gorgeous and beautiful as he took in a drag of his cigarette.  Jiyong had him the moment their eyes met and in a way, he thinks he had Jiyong too.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Singing My Blues

**Author's Note:**

> (Summaries are hard)
> 
> Be prepared for Seungri and Top to steal the show. Because they will. Because I'm TopRi trash at this point.
> 
> I hope you enjoy~!

_01_

 

The sun is out, it’s rays of sunlight blinding but the air is cold, crisp, and it bites on this particular mid-November morning.  Kwon Jiyong, clad in a military inspired jacket, collar up to offer a bit of protection is huddled around his cigarette behind the back alley of FujiTV or something, he honestly cannot remember anymore.  His pack is pressed against the opposite building, cigarette trapped in the corner of his mouth, one icy ungloved hand curled around the flame of his lighter and cigarette to protect it from the wind when the door bursts open.  Out walks a pretty boy idol -- he can always tell who they are because they all of that same air of manufactured good boy aura to them -- wrapped in a checkered scarf and black military coat of his own.  He looks good, better than some of the models Jiyong has messed with overseas.

 

Jiyong is still trying to suck life into his cigarette but his eyes look up and locks with Pretty Boy’s.  Time stills.  Or some shit like that.  Jiyong doesn’t believe in love at first sight anymore but immediate attraction?  Yeah, he does believe in wanting to fuck someone without knowing who they are.

 

Men.  Women.  None of that matters as long as they’re interesting.  If they’re boring then what’s the point?

 

He finishes that first drag, their eyes still locked, cigarette finally beating out the cold of winter, thin white wispy smoke swirling in the space between them as he exhales with a nod and a low, “Hey.”

 

“Hey,” Pretty Boy returns, a note of caution in his word but there’s also a spark of curiosity there in the slight tilt of his head, like he’s trying to figure Jiyong out and that’s when Jiyong knows he has the boy hooked.  This is how they meet. Fate.  Accident.  Something in between.  Maybe someday the universe will tell him.

 

Jiyong slinks into the boy’s space, closing the few steps between them with slow, deliberate movements, offering his cigarette to the boy.  “Want a drag?” he asks, voice low, intimate.  Jiyong is good at this, the push and pull of attraction.  

 

That first sharp intake of air is music to his ears. The boy shakes his head.  “I don’t smoke.”

 

Jiyong’s mouth curls into a smirk.  Figures.  Pretty boy idols _wouldn't_ smoke.  Not good for their image even if eighty percent of the male population in this god forsaken country does.  He backs off but the spark between them has ignited, tangible now even.  He can practically reach out and touch it.  He can see the dilated pupils of Pretty Boy’s eyes, the way his breath is now raspy and short, bursts of hot air coloring the air white.  It’s time he makes his move.  He leans in again, eyes on Pretty Boy’s mouth as he inches in, bypassing the corner of his mouth to hum along his ear.

 

“You wanna get out of here?” he asks as the door bursts open again.

 

It’s another pretty boy idol -- small little thing -- who lets out an exasperated sigh without even sparing Jiyong a glance.  He likes this kid already.

 

“Yutti,” he begins, clearly at his wit’s end, “Did you get lost again?”

 

Jiyong smirks but doesn’t move from where he’s at, body a few centimeters from “Yutti”’s own, forcing the small boy to finally acknowledge his presence.  His eyes shift between them suspiciously, nose scrunched up in a way that’s almost cute.  “Am I interrupting something?”

 

Pretty Boy chokes out a laugh but backs off.  “Nothing.  Meet you out front?”

 

Small Idol Boy gives him one last withering look like he already knows not to trust Jiyong (smart kid) but he fakes a shrug of nonchalance and leaves the way he came, the door closing behind him with a thump as it hits the door-stopper Jiyong placed there earlier.  Pretty Boy smiles up at him, all boyish and coy, coquettish even and a true spark of shock rocks his body.  Pretty boy leans in, scraping a kiss along Jiyong’s cheek as he brushes by, whispering, breath hot, into his ear, “I like your hair.  Red suits you.”

 

 _I'll be damned_ , Jiyong thinks, flustered as Pretty Boy walks away.  He admires the view, the long expanse of Pretty Boy’s back, and thinks about what a pity it is he’ll never get to see that body writhing beneath his own, begging for any kind of release with the prettiest cries.

 

Pretty boy stops, half blocked by the door,  He pokes his head back, throws Jiyong one last smile, genuine and friendly.  Nice.  Open.  His heart might have skipped a beat.

 

Yeah.  What a pity.

 

Ten minutes later he stubs out his cigarette and returns to the world of flashing lights and cameras.

 

_430_

 

Maybe it’s fate the way they meet again like this.  Jiyong has his lips wrapped around the butt of a cigarette behind NTV, sucking in one long drag, head tossed back as he holds in the smoke, eyes closed to revel in the rush of nicotine.  He looks haggard, worn down, but still as beautiful as ever as his lashes flutter, sending tendrils of ache fluttering through his chest.  It’s not the all-consuming darkness and pain he had felt in the beginning of their break-up but he’d be lying if he said he was okay.  Still, Jiyong looks worse than he does, and he is the one who got dumped.

 

How long has it been now?  Four months?  Five?  He’s lost track, finally.  He’s… healing.  Better than Jiyong it looks like.  He’d gathered from all the messages and voicemails -- mixture of broken Japanese and Korean -- that Jiyong and Kiko are no longer together, but why the hell he bothers calling Yuto he’ll never know.  Chinen tells him not to trust drunken confessions and Yuto is inclined to agree.  The voicemails were a little heartbreaking though. That last one, a month ago, drunk and sloppy by the sound of it, noise of someone (probably Youngbae) being pushed away as Jiyong slurs out his name, drawing out, punctuating each syllable with harsh notes.  “Yuto,” he had said, drawing out the “u” in his name.  “Pick-up.”  An ultimatum: if you don’t pick up I won’t call you anymore like a scorned lover, like it was Yuto’s fault they broke up in the first place.  That stung.  Thank god for friends, right? Chinen probably deserves a medal at this point.  Chinen _and_ Suda.

 

When he heard Big Bang was filming in the same building as them that day he couldn’t _not_ find Jiyong to just to make sure he’s okay, that he isn’t hurting himself.  It’s normal.  It’s over between the two of them and he’s healing.  He really is.  Almost over the break-up by now, in fact.  five months is a long time, okay?  But it doesn’t mean he can’t care right?  And Jiyong did sound pretty bad in all those voicemails he had left. Really, he just wants to see with his own eyes that Jiyong is okay.  Nothing more than that.

 

It’s not hard to find Jiyong.  He always does this.  He sneaks away to steal a cigarette or two before returning to the world of idols, the stink of cigarette still on his fingers and in his hair.  Seeing him now, head tilted back, enjoying the nicotine in his lungs, a look of peace on his tired face, it reminds Yuto of why he was ensnared in the first place.  Even like this -- worn down and tired -- he’s still beautiful, every inch the star Seungri keeps claiming he is.

 

He finally breaks the silence.  Though tempting as it is to leave he hears himself say, “I heard Big Bang was shooting here today.  Figured it had to be you out here.”

 

Jiyong chokes on nothing but air, coughing up a lung and that makes him feel a little bad.  “You were looking for me?” he asks, throat sounding raw, voice hoarse, an air of disbelief like he can’t believe Yuto is there.

 

Yuto shrugs, feeling the corner of his lips turning into a soft smile despite him not wanting it to.  His shoulders are tense as he digs his hands into the pocket of his jeans.  “I thought I’d see how you were doing,” he answers honestly.

 

“Good!” Jiyong answers quickly, terse.  He clears his throat right after and Yuto watches him consciously cross his arm across his chest, hand resting in the crook of his elbow as his left hand keeps hold of his cigarette, held close to his face, composed and aloof like when he’s holding all his cards close to his chest.  Yuto has seen this exact same pose directed at strangers before (mostly Chinen when Jiyong is trying to rile up Yuto’s friend), but never at him and it makes him feel cold.

 

It feels like everything's falling apart all over again.

 

Yeah, this was definitely a bad idea.

 

“I’m good,” he repeats, slower, controlled, casual.  He looks properly at Yuto, giving him a once over.  “You look… good.”

 

Another shrug. What else could he do in reply to that?  “I _am_ good.” And he is.  It’s not like before -- young and naive and carefree -- but he’s not the same person as he was then.  He knows what it feels like to think that life is over, that he’ll never be happy again, that there’s a black hole where Jiyong used to be sucking in all the happiness he had.

 

“You look," a pause, "happy,” Jiyong ends with, a discerning look in his eyes, sounding almost bitter and sad.

 

“I’m in a good place right now,” he says and is surprised at how true the words are.

 

“Oh?” The catch in Jiyong’s voice tells Yuto he’s curious.  Jiyong can never not ask when he’s curious..  “You seeing anyone?”

 

He hides a smile.  “Not really looking.  I was really hung up on this one guy but it didn’t end too well.  Love is overrated anyhow.  Who needs it, you know?”

 

There’s a pause that holds within it all the tension between them.  The good.  The bad.  Everything in between.  Jiyong breaks it when he finally says, “I’m sorry.”  It comes out cold, like he doesn’t mean it but the slight shake of his cigarette, barely perceptible to anyone else says otherwise and what more could Yuto ask for than that?  Sometimes relationships don’t work out and honestly, what they had?  What was it even really?

 

Yuto gives Jiyong his first genuine smile to ease the tension furrowed between Jiyong’s brows, to ease some of that guilt hidden in the corner of his eyes.

  
“I’m glad to hear you’re doing good.  I-” he stutters.  “I worried there for a while.”

 

The grin he gets in return for that is tense, forced, more like a grimace.  “Couldn’t be happier.”

 

Yuto sees the false cheer -- the lie -- but bites his own sad smile away.  Jiyong hates pity more than anything, not that he’s offering any.

 

“I’ll see you around, okay?”

 

It’s not a lie.  It’s not a promise either.  It’s just something in between.  Maybe they’ll run into each other again someday.  Maybe one day he’ll send Jiyong a text or he’ll receive one in return that asks, “Hey, wanna grab some dinner?” like friends and it’ll be okay.  Maybe Yamada is right.  Maybe he should try to be friends with Jiyong in the future.  The future.  Endless possibilities out there but this right now feels right.  Like closure.  Something he didn’t realize he needed until it happened.

 

It’s time to go, to leave it all in the past.  He turns to go, slowly letting allowing his head to fall back so he can gaze up at the blue, blue sky and breathes out a relieved sigh as the tightness in his chest he didn’t know was there lessening and the weight leaving his shoulders.

 

A few steps into his escape Jiyong stops him with a, “Wait.”

 

Dread builds in his stomach.  This ending was so perfect, so right, he dreads to hear what Jiyong has to say, dreads everything coming crashing down.

 

“Last time we saw each other, before it all went to shit, you wanted to show me something.  You- You looked so happy and I can’t stop thinking about what it could have been.”

 

Well, that’s not so bad, he thinks even as his fingers itch to run across that smooth patch of skin, a habit he had developed every time he thinks about it.  “I haven’t decided if I want to keep it yet.”  Lies.  He keeps saying that but he already knows.  He resumes his escape and doesn’t look back.

 

_430.5_

 

Youngbae finds Jiyong behind the NHK building after they film without him -- a carefully crafted lie about their leader falling ill -- to keep Jiyong’s professional public persona.  His back is pressed against the wall, cigarette butts littered around one drawn up knee, another smoke between his fingers withering away into ashes as Jiyong stares at it with blank, empty eyes.

 

He sighs but doesn’t say anything, just presses his own back against the wall and slides down, letting gravity do all the work as he settles next to his friend, ass on cold concrete.  When he throws an arm around Jiyong, his friend hides his face in Youngbae’s shoulder.

 

Youngbae pretends he’s not choked up, throat tight as Jiyong sniffles into his shirt.

 

They both pretend Jiyong doesn’t cry.

 

_442_

 

This is absurd.  Completely, without a doubt in his mind, absolutely _absurd_   Yuto wouldn’t.  Of course he wouldn't.  Not his Yuto; the Yuto who couldn’t even think about putting subtle highlights in his hair until Yamada had mentioned it would look good.  Not the Yuto who refused to even dye his hair until he got the role in Suikyuu Yankees and even then he had waited until the last possible moment to dye it that ugly orange blond.  But Chinen’s eyes are share and they never lie.  The quick flash of familiar black letters against Yuto’s skin when his shirt had ridden up is undeniable.

 

Chinen knows he should leave it alone.  Better to not know than have it confirmed, he’d say.  Pretend he never saw it but the part of him that needed to prove himself right walks walks over to Yuto and yanks his shirt up. The letters, mostly hidden now by the waistband of his track pants, barely peeks up at him.

 

“What did you do?!”  There might have been a note of hysteria.

 

Yuto quickly tugs his shirt back down.  “What are you talking about?”

 

“When you jumped, I saw it.”

 

“Saw what?” Yuto tries a play at innocent but Chinen can tell Yuto knows exactly what he’s talking about if the sheepish expression on his face is anything to go by.  The glare he gives in return lets Yuto know he isn’t joking around, a message clearly received because Yuto sighs and pulls him aside.  Already, they’re attracting the attention of the others.

 

“It was stupid, I know.”

 

“Damn right it was!”  It’s Yuto’s turn to glare at him.  “Let me see,” he continues, quieter this time.

 

Yuto sighs but glances around to make sure no one is playing them any mind before grabbing the end of the shirt and the band of his track pants, peeling them apart about half an inch.  In glorious bold black lettering “GD” stares up at him.

 

This is Yutti.  HIS Yutti. The kid who doesn’t like flashy accessories or non-camera make-up.  The kid who doesn’t dye his hair unless it’s for a job.  He doesn’t do manicures or pedicures or piercings or colored lenses like Yamada nor is he swayed by the fashion trends of kids their own age.  His Yutti who only sees the best in everyone, who thinks they’re beautiful exactly the way they are, who had never once mentioned getting or wanting a tattoo.

 

“Why?” he asks as Yuto’s his shirt fall back down.  “Why would you do this?”

 

“I wanted to.  It felt right at the time.”

 

“At least tell me you didn’t do it for him.”  The silence that follows his statement is enough to let Chinen know that’s exactly the reason.  “I’m going to kill him.”  He’s charged and ready to take down this G-Dragon, Kwon Jiyong, whatever.  First it was Yuto being late for interviews and photoshoots and then full blown just missing them.  He remembers Yamada having to lie to the managers about Yuto have the flu once just so Yuto wouldn’t in get in trouble.  And now a tattoo?  And this G-Dragon character had the audacity to make Yuto cry after he’d gotten Yuto to do something as stupid as scarring his skin for the rest of his life?  Chinen had to watch and hear Yuto cry for days.  If this was America, he’d have this Kwon Jiyong staring down the barrel of his shotgun by now.  If he had a shotgun that is.

 

He knew the guy was bad news the moment he found Yuto and him behind the NTV building.  He should have kept the two of them apart when he found out they had something going on.  Hindsight and all that.

 

Yuto must see the fire and thirst for revenge in his eyes because he grips Chinen’s shoulders and levels him with a hard stare.  “Calm down.  This isn’t his fault.  He doesn’t even know.”

 

That drains all the fire out of him, leaving him feeling sad and defeated.  “Yutti…”

 

Yuto shrugs again, both his shoulders bunching up before slowly falling back down again, a wry smile on his lips.  “I asked him once why he had so many tattoos and you know what he said?”  He doesn’t wait for prodding.  “He told me he gets tattoos when he makes big decisions in his life because they’re something real, a physical reminder of the conscious choices he’s made.  It’s both an ending and a beginning all at once and that really stuck with me.”

 

Chinen parses through the words, hears the intent loud and clear.  “You made a big decision.”

 

One curt nod from Yuto.  It’s irrational, the fear that takes over.  _Please don't tell me you were going to leave_ , he begs silently.  Everything was finally just going right for them after eight years.  They’ve stabilized, finally started making waves again and Yuto himself is just starting to breach his full potential.  To throw that all away…  How serious were they really?

 

Yuto abates all his fears when he gives his answer.  “I know you didn’t like him,” he says, shooting down the look of innocent Chinen tries to pull, to which Chinen responds by shrugging him off.  “We never defined anything, you know?  We just were and that was easy.  He didn’t want to call it anything and I never cared enough to ask.  What did it matter either way what we called ourselves?  I just knew that I wasn’t ever going to feel that strongly about anyone else again and I guess when I realized that I wanted something real to show for it.”

 

A laugh that doesn’t reach Yuto’s eyes bubble out of him, making Chinen ache on behalf of his friend.

 

“Look how that turned out, huh?”  Depreciative, like Yuto doesn’t know how much he’s actually worth.

 

He wants to tell his friend that, to let Yuto know that he’s worth so much more than a plaything for someone to mess around with, but the only thing he says is, “You’re an idiot.”

 

Of all the reasons to get tattooed at least it isn’t frivolous.  It sounds pretty damn poetic, actually.  If Yuto wasn’t an idol he would be more agreeable but fact is Yuto _is_ an idol and they’re expected to be role models for the young hearts and minds of Japan, a country which frowns on tattoos still.  “You gonna keep it?”

 

“I honestly don’t know.”

 

Yuto twitches when he lies.  It’s barely there, hardly detectable in the slight wince of his eyes and the minuscule movement of his brows but it’s there.  Chinen bites his tongue.  If Yuto wants to keep it, that’s his choice.  Nothing he can do otherwise.  

 

_10_

 

Halfway through their night out Seungri notices a change in Jiyong.  While he had been cold and aloof previously, brushing off all attention given by practically every pretty girl in the club, now he seems to have fixated on someone he deemed worthy of his interest.  Jiyong is weird that way.  How he decides who makes the cut and who doesn’t will always remain a mystery to him.  If they’re pretty, willing, and can semi-hold a conversation isn’t that good enough?  It was always for him.  

 

Back to Jiyong though.  Instead of pressing against the back of the loveseat with his phone in hand, bored, Jiyong has leant forward, phone nowhere in sight, chin in the palm of his hand, propped up by the elbow on his knee, hiding a smile behind the curl of his fingers.  Good for him.  He hadn’t seen Jiyong take an interest in anyone since Kiko up and left without a word.  Maybe now Jiyong can escape the clutches of that toxic relationship.  Well, he assumes it’s toxic because Youngbae keeps telling him it was.  What the hell does Seungri know anyhow?  He never stayed long enough for relationships to not be fun anymore.

 

Honestly, he has nothing against her, unlike Youngbae.  She’s a nice enough person, but aren’t they all?  And Jiyong seemed happy with her at least.  Maybe sometimes it just doesn’t work out.  Maybe that’s what happened to Jiyong’s relationship with her but they were too stubborn to let go.  Or so Youngbae keeps telling him when he’s trashed and doesn’t know it.  Again, he knows nothing about love or relationships.  

 

He follows Jiyong’s gaze as the girl in his lap suck kisses up along his neck, eyes landing on a tall, handsome male, tight black jeans doing well to highlight long, long legs and the red leather jacket complements the combination of thick black hair against pale white skin even in the poor lighting of the club.  He can see why Jiyong wants him.  The boy is gorgeous if a bit on the young side.  Not to mention the obvious. Jiyong always did have a weakness for Japanese men and women.

 

Wait.  Hold on.  He pulls away, distracted for a moment.  The boy looks familiar.  Come to think of it his two friends -- one with razor sharp cheekbones and the other with incredibly good hair -- they look familiar too.  He’s seen them before.  It’s at the tip of his tongue.  He _knows_ he should know them.  He’s so close to the answer when Jiyong suddenly ups and leaves, sauntering over to the bar and throwing himself on it with well acted nonchalance, resting his elbow on the counter, leaning forward and flashing pearly white teeth equipped with a boyish smile to charm the bartender while ordering his drink.

 

Ahh.  Seungri gets it now.  Jiyong’s target has left the safety of his friends for the bar alone and Jiyong, the predator that he is, never misses an opportunity.  Now that Jiyong has approached him it’s only a matter of hours, if that, before he gets what he wants.  (Jiyong always gets what he wants.)  Seungri has seen this a thousand times before -- the boyish charm, the mysterious charisma, push, pull, push, pull -- he doesn’t need to see it again, especially now that the girl in his lap is whining at the lack of attention.  He diverts his attention back to her, brushing her long hair out of her face and tucks it behind an ear as he smiles up at her.

 

She’s so very pretty but it feels more empty than ever.  They’re all the same, every last one of them.  Pretty but forgettable, nameless.  In the corner of his eye he catches Top watching them.  His hyung.  _His_.  The one who plopped down on the chaise the moment they walked in, claiming the whole space for himself, cold and unapproachable, a drink constantly in one hand.

 

The girl licks her way into Seungri’s mouth, moaning against his lips, hips beginning a slow rocking motion that the darkness of the club hides.  She tries her best but the whole time Seungri watches Top watching them, a quirk in his eyebrow, a hint of a smirk, a fire in his eyes.  Well, this just got way more interesting.

 

Ten minutes later, twenty, he’s not sure anymore as it gets hot and heavy between him and Top-hyung, his hand tangled and tied in the long strands of the girl’s hair but his eyes are locked solely with Top’s who never once looks away.  He keeps watching them, eyes bold, that quirk still there in his eyes, challenging Seungri with the curve of his mouth.  Enough.  Fuck.

 

So, pretty girls and Top-hyung.

 

And tonight Top-hyung is definitely winning.

 

Extricating himself from the girl, hands on her narrow hips to lift her up and off, he leaves her behind.  She calls him an asshole but why should he care, just shrugs it off and doesn’t pay her any mind.  He plops himself down next to Top.

 

“Hyung,” he breathes out, half-sings actually.

 

Top hums in reply.  “Bored already?  She was pretty.”

 

Seungri shrugs and changes the subject. “What are you doing?”

 

“Well, now that you’re done making an ass of yourself in public, watching Jiyong make his move on pretty boy model.”

 

“You think he’s pretty?”  An unexplainable and undeniable burst of jealousy.  Huh.  That’s new.

 

Top-hyung gives him a look that says, “Are you blind?”

 

Seungri resists the urge to pout and follows Top’s gaze to the scene unfolding before them.  Now seated at the bar alone together, pretty boy is defenseless against Jiyong, especially when he does that thing he always does.  The thing that’s irresistible when he does it but creepy if done by anyone else.  Trust him.  Seungri has tried it before and got a drink in his face for all his trouble.  Jiyong slithers into the boy’s space like a snake, a fond smile on his lips as their eyes lock, peering up from below as he softens his eyes as if to say he can see right through their soul and can’t help loving what he sees there.  Inevitably, like all the ones before, Pretty boy becomes shy, turning away from Jiyong’s stare as he half-hearted pushes him away. This action only emboldens Jiyong, encouraging him to lean in closer, a grin splitting his face.

 

“Don’t worry,” Top says, hooking an arm around Seungri’s neck, snatching his attention back.  “You’re still my favorite.”

 

Predictably, Jiyong and his pretty boy model disappear not even fifteen minutes later and Seungri?  Well, he spends the night with Top-hyung as they play their own game of push and pull, a finger trailing up and down the length of his palm, a ghost of a breath along the collar of his shirt.  It’s exciting, exhilarating, gets his blood pumping in ways the pretty girls never could manage, especially when Top crowds up him up against his apartment door and claims his mouth, only to leave Seungri panting where he stands when he walks away with a single, casual wave tossed in the air behind him.

 

Fuck.

 

He bangs his head against the door.

 

He’s never been so hard in his life.

 

_32_

 

“Man, what are you listening to?” Youngbae asks, disbelief playing across his face as he stands frozen at the threshold to Jiyong’s bedroom, the noise of polished happy Japanese pop music complete with bells and whistles playing from the speakers, something about “if you love more” and “gyuu gyuu gyuu,” whatever the hell that means.

 

He watches Jiyong crumble at his desk, groaning as he hides his face in the crook of his elbow, hood pulled tight over his head as if that would make him disappear.  He mumbles into his arm, “I don’t know.  I don’t even fucking know anymore, Youngbae.”

 

Jiyong says that but they both know he’s lying.  This has absolutely everything to do with that Japanese boy Jiyong has taken up with recently.  He had thought it was something casual, something on the side for Jiyong to distract himself with before Kiko returned from where she had gallivanted off to and they return to their cycle of love, hate, fight, leave, return, love hate fight leave return love hate.  It never ends.

 

Youngbae knows Jiyong well enough, after thirteen years together he sure as hell should.  He knows Jiyong well enough to know that that’s exactly the reason why Jiyong loves her so much.  because she leaves and she’s crazy and she drives HIM crazy so the wants to be the one that makes her say.  Really messed up, these two.

 

Jiyong might love her but Youngbae hates her, plain and simple, can’t stand to be in the same room with her.  Jiyong thrives in the way she twists him around, drives him insane and puts him on edge, keeps him high and drugged up with love and lust and gives him hope that maybe this time will be different and then she stomps Jiyong’s heart into the ground with her pretty little sneakers when she disappears off to who knows here.  And who’s there to pick up the pieces?

 

Yeah.  Him.  Dong Youngbae.  Jiyong’s best friend.  The one who’s known Jiyong for half of their life.  He is the one who picks Jiyong up from the back room of clubs and cleans up his puke and puts him to bed and watches him as he breaks out in cold sweats.  He’s the one who makes sure Jiyong doesn’t kill himself partying and keeps him hydrated and fed and throws him in the shower.

 

So yeah, he hates her.  He hates how she drives Jiyong crazy.

 

But maybe there’s hope after all.  There’s this boy now -- Nakajima Yuto if he remembers correctly -- and Youngbae hopes to God this breaks whatever hold Kiko has on his friend because he looks like he can be happy again without all the baggage of heartache and rejection that comes attached with Kiko.  He watches them sometimes -- backstage, grabbing dinner together, hanging out in Jiyong’s and Top-hyung’s apartment. The kid is good for him.  He looks like he genuinely cares about Jiyong in an unselfish, all in kind of way and Jiyong needs someone who’s going to give back to him as much as he shells out.

 

If he had any doubts about how Jiyong feels about the kid, this moment sweeps it all away.  More than once Jiyong had gone on a drunken tirade about how useless and soulless and plastic Japanese pop idol music felt but he’s listening to it now because it’s the kid’s music.  He’s groaning the whole way through it but he’s still listening, probably even secretly likes it for no other reason than it’s the kid and his group and Jiyong is a sap that way.

 

“How about I come back later?” he asks, keeping the laughter at bay, watching his friend hardly move as the music continues to play, the song nearing it’s end.  
  
Jiyong groans into his arm again before answering.  “Yeah, how about that.”

 

Youngbae breaks out in a smirk but refrains from cackling.  Jiyong would probably attack him if he saw the smirk on Youngbae’s face.  Poor Jiyong. He must be so confused right now.  Unfortunately for him this is something he’ll have to work out himself.

 

_55_

 

For all the unintended awkward grace and elegance Yuto displays when he’s awake he’s surprisingly unsophisticated and messy when he’s asleep, sprawled half naked on Jiyong’s bed, mouth wide open as he drools all over Jiyong’s pillow.  It would gross him out if he didn’t think it was so endearing. Nope, scratch that.  Still gross.

 

It’s a too warm summer night, making sleep uncomfortable so while he tries to write songs he hears Yuto toss back and forth, throwing the covers off when he gets too hot only to snuggle back into them when it gets too cold, like his body keeps going to either end of the spectrum because it can’t decide which one it wants to be.  As Jiyong watches he feels a burst of warm and fondness seeping through the core of his chest, a not unfamiliar feeling at this point.

 

Yuto is only twenty-on, five years younger even though they debuted at relatively the same time.  Unlike Jiyong though, he still has that childish excitement to him, like his life hasn’t been affected or scarred by the industry and fame.  Maybe that’s why Jiyong can’t seem to walk away just yet.  Everyone around him is varying levels of jaded or bitter (Top, Youngbae) or up their own ass about how great they are (Daesung, Seungri, hell even himself included sometimes) but Yuto keeps chugging along with his idol life like everything is perfect, like he just debuted yesterday and can’t believe this is his life.  Everything still feels so new to him, fresh, and it shows on his face all the damn time.

 

Maybe he has grown attached.  How long has it been?  Two months?  If even that?  He hadn’t given it a second thought before Kiko.  She’s the first person he ever love with complete abandon, rhyme and reason be damned and it would have been so easy to write Yuto off as a phase, just another warm body to pass the time with until Kiko comes back but he can’t forget that instant pang of jealousy over Yuto a week ago.  Two weeks, maybe.  Thinking about it burns his cheeks with embarrassment.

 

He remembers Top-hyung asking, “You and this kid just a casual thing, right?” from his position on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, focused on the camera in his hand, finger clicking a button every few seconds.

 

“Yeah.  Why do you care?” he had asked around a mouthful of rice.  “What are you doing anyway?

 

Again, Top-hyung hadn’t bothered looking up.  “Going through the kid’s photos.  You know he likes photography?  He’s not half bad.”

 

What did he care what Yuto liked or didn’t like?  Top-hyung ignored him ignoring Top-hyung because he continued, slicing through the silence with his deep voice.  “The kid only has like ten photos of you.”  More silence.  Once more, he didn’t care.  “He has ten of you but like a hundred of this other guy.  Pretty too.”

 

His chest constricted.  “What?”

 

“Yeah, there’s a few other people in here but mostly just of this one guy.  Maybe bandmates.  Probably Yamada.  He talks about this Yamada guy a lot.”

 

“Who is this?” he had asked Yuto the moment Yuto had walked into his living room, accusatory while pointing to the picture he had pulled up on the camera screen, Seungri trailing not far behind to presumably hang out with Top-hyung.

 

Yuto had brightened and crooned, ignoring the question as he plucked his camera away from Jiyong.  “I thought I lost you!”

 

“Yuto,” he had tried again, impatient.  “Who?”

  
  
“Huh?”  Yuto’s brow furrowed together in confusion.

 

“The guy in all those pictures.”

 

“Oh, you mean Yamada?”

 

“You like him?”

 

Yuto had shrugged and set his camera down on the coffee table.  “We’re in the same group and we’re friends?”

  
  
“Just friends?”  He knew he sounded petty and jealous, like a child who only loves a toy when someone else is taking it away from him.

 

Yuto didn’t push, just squinted at him with discerning eyes before he nods.  “He and I together?  That would probably just be a world of angst angst angst.  You’re much more fun.”

 

It was said probably more for his benefit than anything else but it made him feel better to know nothing had happened (or was going to happen) between Yuto and this Yamada kid.  Somewhere along the way he had started thinking of Yuto as his.

 

Fuck, he thinks, eyes gliding over to where Yuto sleeps and drools on his pillow, a new melody forming in his head, different from the fast paced club thumper he had been attempting to write earlier.  This one is slower, gentle, tender almost like it hurt.  He jots the notes down quickly before tossing the notebook back onto his desk, climbing into bed next to Yuto, brushing his hair away from his sweaty forehead when the boy clings to him.

 

 _Fuck_ he thinks again.  _I'm screwed_.  This happens every time.  He falls hard and fast every damn time and everything spins out of control before they even get to know each other and the next thing he knows it becomes suffocating, an obligation more than anything else.  He doesn’t want that anymore, not after Kiko.  And yet…

 

 _I like you,_ he confesses to Yuto, silent and only in his mind, like a secret he can’t share with the other boy quite yet.  He doesn’t think he can manage it out loud because the truth is he’s a little scared.  Saying it out loud makes it a promise and with tomorrows being so uncertain he’d rather just not.  But _I really mean it when I say I like you_.

 

_381_

 

When the fighting starts Top can’t help but sigh.  He’s in his room minding his own business, trying to write raps to the demos Jiyong had handed him earlier in the day when the shouting begins.  Like an over-used script it starts with some light-hearted squabbling, a teasing dig here and there being played off as a joke when it’s really something they’ve kept buried for days.  Their rooms are right next to each other’s so how could he _not_ hear?

 

Inevitably one of them will go too far and the other will get hurt, most of the time Kiko.  It’s hushed voices for a minute or two, five minutes if Top is lucky, before an explosion of “How could you say that?” followed by a “What, you mean the truth?”

 

Obviously not the right thing to say as that’s when the screaming really starts.

 

He can pretty much mimic the whole conversation from his side of the wall at this point, had done it once for Seungri who couldn’t contain his hysterical laughter, so much so that Top had to climb over him and press the flat of his palm over Seungri’s mouth to quiet him.  That had led to an… _interesting_ development.

 

“How many times are we going to go over this?”  -Kiko.

 

“Just tell me why.  Why do you keep leaving?”  -Jiyong.

 

“I don’t know why.”

 

That’s got to hurt.  Top can hear Jiyong’s heart practically break from here.

 

“I wish you were more like Yuto.”

 

What?

 

“What?” Kiko says, voice sharp as she echoes Top’s question.

 

Nope.

 

 _Nope_.

 

Jiyong has gone off script by bringing in Yuto and this is about to turn ugly.  He’s practically courting death at this point because hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, especially one being compared to an ex.  But you know what?  Jiyong dug his own grave.  It’s time for Top to save his own ass.  He gathers his things -- phone, wallet, charger, notebook -- slings his shoulder bag over his shoulder and flees over to Seungri’s apartment.

 

Top returns the next morning to their apartment trashed.  Books, DVD’s, CD’s, couch cushions, anything and everything that could be thrown was apparently a victim.  His poor flowers.  Jiyong’s at the couch, arm crossed, breathing up a storm, angry tears welling up in his eyes.

 

“Fuck her,” Jiyong forces out, harsh, as Top gingerly approaches, the sound of glass crunching underneath his shoes.  “I don’t need her.”

 

 _You never did_ , Top thinks but stays silent as the tears well over and fall, Jiyong wiping them away angrily with the back of his hand.  He still doesn’t say anything as he sits down next to his friend, squeezing his shoulder with one hand in an offer of comfort and friendship.

 

_237_

 

Yuto slips into his life with so much fucking ease he didn’t even realize it until it hits him that Yuto had become a fixture on his living room floor, shouting and playing games with Top and Seungri, the latter of whom is spending more and more time at Jiyong’s and Top’s apartment than the actual one he shares with Daesung two floors below.

 

It’s not surprising that Yuto and Seungri get along, becoming fast friends even because Seungri likes to collect people, especially celebrity ones.  The easy camaraderie he shares with Top-hyung on the other hand, is.  His older friend appears intimidating, handsome face with strong eyebrows and fierce eyes give off the impression he’s cold and unapproachable but beneath the surface Top is one of the funniest, most compassionate person he knows and it’s a damn shame not a lot of people are willing to look past physical appearances to see that.  Yuto does though, or rather it’s like he sees the good in everyone.  Even in someone as emotionally fucked up as Jiyong.

 

He might not be able to say it in a language Yuto can understand, not yet at least because sometimes he’s a coward but he gets the feeling Yuto knows anyway.  He never asks Jiyong for too much though.  Actually, he doesn’t ask for anything and Jiyong gets the inkling that Yuto understands him better than he thinks.  Yuto randomly shows up sometimes and hangs around the apartment sharing quiet conversations with Top-hyung or just lounging around in Jiyong’s peripheral, patiently waiting until Jiyong is ready to face the fact that he’s getting nowhere with the songwriting, at least for that day.

 

Yuto is good at keeping himself busy whether it be taking random pictures of Top-hyung or Top-hyung and his hat collection, cowboy ones included, those stupid potted plants he insists on raising in their apartment and not out on the balcony where they should be, or the sheer amount of shoes Jiyong has.  And then just when he starts to get frustrated at being unable to write anything good Yuto uses his camera as a tool to distract Jiyong, to draw him away from the scribbles of halfhearted partially finished songs.  He starts from a distance, his camera clicking from the other side of the room, gradually getting closer and closer until he’s no more than a few inches away from Jiyong’s face, the click click click of the shutter buzzing in his ear.

 

Like now.

 

He pushes Yuto’s camera away, mindful of it because Yuto’s heart would break if it broke, and yanks Yuto in by his collar, attacking his mouth with filthy kisses.

 

It’s easy, this thing between them; simple.  Most of the time that’s a good thing.  Sometimes it’s not.  Sometimes he looks at Yuto and all he can think about is Kiko.  They’re so different, the two of them -- Yuto and Kiko.  Yuto is spring -- all sunshine and bright smiles and naivety and innocence, a breath of cool, fresh air, a hint of cherry blossoms underneath.  Jiyong looks at Yuto sometimes and can’t help but see how young Yuto is -- twenty-one -- and it makes him feel so old, jaded.

 

If Yuto is the freshness and new life of spring then Kiko is the heat and haze of summer, crazy beautiful in a way that drives him fucking insane.  She is intense heat, ever changing weather, too hot and too wet, sunshine and thunderstorms and drizzles all in the same day.  She’s the free spirit of that hot elusive summer wind, unable and unwilling to be tied down by anyone or anything, most especially Jiyong even if she loves him too.  She’s intoxicating, drowning him in a pool of all-consuming passion, a rush of of ecstasy and serotonin, maddening, driving him to the brink of depression when the calls of America or Japan or some other country whisks her away.  She never tells him she’s leaving.  One day she’s sleeping on his shoulder and the next she’s answering his call from the other end of the world, laughing as the sounds of Brazil surround her.

 

Sometimes he looks at Yuto and basks in the cool wind of spring, that sweet hint of cherry blossom filling his senses but more than half the time all it does is make him miss the hot gust of summer wind against his face.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Yuto asks, pulling him away from his thoughts.  He peeks up at Yuto, fingers interlocked on the boy’s bare abdomen as his chin rests on top.

 

“You should get a tattoo.”  Apropos of nothing but a distraction.

 

Yuto laughs at him.  “I wouldn’t even know what to get!”

 

A grin split his face, teasing, a mischievous tilt to his head.  “GD.”  He trails a blunt fingernail along the boy’s sharp hip-bone and stops right where the band of his jeans would rest.  “Right here.”

 

Yuto shrugs, a smile playing at his lips.  “Maybe,” he says.  “Someday.”

 

Jiyong knows Yuto wouldn’t no matter what promises he makes.  Pretty boy idols don’t go around sporting tattoos.  It’s a shame.  His initials inked into that pale white skin would have been a beautiful sight to see.

 

_11_

 

Top, still groggy and a little hungover, stumbles into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with one hand while he yawns and stretches with the other, arm reaching high above him as if reaching for the ceiling.  He gets the shock of his life when he comes face to face with Jiyong’s one night stand, spatula in one hand and a frying pan in the other as he beams at him.

 

“Good morning,” he says pleasantly in Japanese and Top repeats the word back at him albeit with less enthusiasm.  It seems like that’s all the invitation the boy needs to barrage Top with a string of Japanese words so fast he has no hope of understanding what the boy is saying.  He sits and waits patiently for the boy to finish or for him to breathe (breathe damnit!) before he cuts in.

 

“My Japanese isn’t very good,” he says to the boy the best he can in heavily accented Japanese, stumbling over the words like an idiot.

 

“I see,” the boy says in reply, brows scrunching into a small frown, but then he begins again, this time slowing his speech so that Top can understand better.  “I’m Nakajima Yuto.”

 

“Choi Seunghyun.  Top is easy so Top.”

  
  
“Okay, then just Yuto is okay.”

 

They exchange morning pleasantries as best they can, a few awkward questions here and there that turns into actual conversation while Yuto hovers over the stove and cooks omelet rice.  Yut never prods or rushes him along.  He waits patiently for Top to find the right words and structure to form his thoughts but not once is he condescending.  In the middle of it he realizes it’s nice to have someone else to talk to.  Someone who isn’t one of his bandmates. He loves them, he really does but sometimes he just needs a break from all of them.  Especially Daesung and Seungri.

 

Oh God.  Seungri.

 

Bits and pieces from the previous night flashes before his eyes as he closes them, suppressing the urge to moan while doing so.  What had he been thinking dragging his nails along the palm of Seungri’s hand all night?  What in the hell had he been thinking pressing the full length of his body against Seungri’s as he kisses him up against his apartment door.

 

Fuck.  

 

He’s going to have to call and apologize and promise it will never happen again.

 

Thank the heavens for small miracles because Jiyong chooses that moment to walk into their living room, stepping dead in his tracks like a deer caught in the headlights before miming gestures that he _thinks_ is asking what Yuto was still doing there, displeasure written clearly on his face.

 

Top glares at him in return, all communication done through his eyes, asking, “How the hell should I know?”

 

Yuto has yet to notice Jiyong with his back towards them.  Top sees the wheels turn in Jiyong’s head, sees the panic in his eyes, sees him make a grab for the hoodie on the couch and the first steps of a beeline towards the front door but Top reacts quickly, used to this by now and unwilling to be left alone with one of Jiyong’s one night stands AGAIN, picking up and cleaning after their leader’s mess.  No, this time Jiyong’s going to take care of this himself.

 

“Ah, Jiyong.  Good Morning.”  His voice is sudden in the silence, surprising even Yuto.  “You’re awake.”

 

Yuto swivels around on his heels and even in the corner of his eyes Top can see his whole face lighting up.  Jiyong is screwed.

 

“Are you going somewhere?” Yuto asks, wide-eyed and innocent.

 

A nervous laugh forces it’s way out of Big Bang’s leader but he shakes his head nonetheless.  “Just cold,” he lies through his teeth as he tugs on the hoodie, glaring at Top through the hole before pushing his head through.  Top doesn’t know if Yuto is that obvlious or in denial or something because he seems satisfied enough with the answer and returns to the task at hand, which is apparently plating the food he’d just cooked.  He surprises Top who only downs coffee for breakfast because he’s too lazy and tired to do anything else when he sets an omelet rice in front of him too.

 

“For keeping me company,” Top guesses.  Then clearly, “Your Japanese is good.”

 

From anything else he’d say they were lying out of their asses but this kid genuinely seems incapable of doing so.  Wow.  Jiyong really is screwed.  They eat in uncomfortable silence, Jiyong contributing nothing but a word here and there while Top does his best to hold a conversation with Yuto, once in awhile giving Jiyong a warning glance and a swift kick under the table.  He can tell his friend is lost, unsure of how to deal with this situation because he’d always left everything for Top or Youngbae to deal with.

 

Top makes his escape after breakfast, throwing out in Korean that he’s going to visit Youngbae as he casually walks towards the door and tugs on his shoes, Jiyong not too far behind him.

 

“What am I supposed to do?” Jiyong asks in Korean.  

 

“I don’t know,” Top answers with a shrug as he laces up his shoes.  “However you do it, let him down easy.  He’s a good kid.”

 

“That’s it?”  There’s a frantic edge to his question.

 

Another shrug.  “Your issue, not mine.” Then he looks around Jiyong and waves at Yuto, bidding him goodbye in Japanese before leaving Jiyong to clean up his own mess.  Kid’s gotta learn about consequences some time.  Today is as good a day as any.

 

Or so he had hoped.

 

When Top returns home around eight that night to see Yuto still in their apartment, hair a tangled mess, lips bruised red and raw, he directs deadpan eyes at Jiyong and shakes his head, unimpressed.  “This is going to blow up in your face,” he warns.

 

Jiyong flips him off in return from where he’s sitting next to Yuto on the couch but doesn’t say a word.

 

_69_

 

The sheer amount of fans that come to their dome concerts always leave their blood pumping, adrenaline rushing through their veins for hours after as they host their own after-parties.  Jiyong usually lingers onstage after the last encore song to soak in the screams of love and adoration but this night he’s the first one gone, disappearing barely after the curtains closed.  Seungri doesn’t question it.  Sometimes nature calls at the most inopportune time.

 

Ten minutes later he realizes it’s a different kind of call.  He hears a thunk against the wood door while his hand is on the knob, ready to turn and open it.  It’s a little puzzling but nothing to worry about.  He twists the knob only to find it locked.  Okay, now he’s a little worried.  He spots Youngbae and Daesung twenty feet away, lingering with the girl dancers so it could only be Jiyong.

 

“Hyung, you in there?”  he hears a hiss.  “Is everything okay?”  And then a moan.  Oh.  _Oh_.  He hadn’t even realized Yuto was coming to the show though that would explain the endless waves of energy wafting off of Jiyong all night.

 

“Come back in ten min-ow!  Okay, okay!  Twenty minutes!”  Then quieter, not meant for Seungri, he hisses out, “Jesus Christ.  Fuck.  _You're so dangerous babe_.”

 

That’s it.  Seungri’s done. He’s half-hard already from this little display and it’s getting a little old at this point.  Not _this_ exactly.  As far as Jiyong getting his dick sucked by Yuto in their dressing (or anyone, really) this is a first.  He’s done getting turned on by the littlest things (especially by his own band leader and his boyfriend because gross).  Now or never.  Time to put it all on the line because he can’t keep playing this game with Top-hyung.

 

Seungri marches into Top’s private dressing room, nothing that he’s half undressed and sweaty, breads of it sliding down the long expanse of his back and God, he didn’t think something like that could be so hot.  He closes the door behind him and locks it before his hyung even finishes turning around.

 

“Seungri, what are you-”

 

“Anything,” he says, cutting off Top-hyung.  God, it sounds like he’s begging and he can’t even refute it.  At this point he doesn’t even care anymore.  “I tell you I’m serious and you brush me off.  I’ve been trying to show you these past two months.  I haven’t been with anyone else.  I haven’t looked at anyone else.  I can’t take this anymore.”

 

He knows sounds wrecked, desperate, pleading.  “I’ll do anything you want to prove it to you because you say you don’t want me but you keep looking at me like you do and that gives me hope.  But if you’re just playing with me, please stop.”  He stops and bites his bottom lip to keep himself from saying more, brows furrowed in and asks himself when he became so messy and emotional.

 

Top-hyung’s nostrils flare, his eyes darkening, almost black, and consuming Seungri with his gaze.  “You’ve never been in a serious relationship before,” hyung says, words low and thought out like he’s trying to convince himself.  “You’ve never been with another guy or in love-”

 

“You won’t give me a chance!” he bursts out but pauses long enough to take in a deep breath to calm himself.  “Isn’t that why they’re called firsts?”

 

“I’m not going to be your test run.”  His eyes pierces into Seungri’s.  “I don’t do casual.”

 

“I don’t want casual,” he shoots back, defiant.

 

It appears something breaks inside his hyung because Top-hyung stalks towards him like a predator, closing the distance between them one deliberate step at a time, giving Seungri the chance to run and escape.  It’s intimidating for sure but he’s not going to run.  He’s never wanted anything more in his life (except maybe being a star) so he stays planted where he’s at, back against the thing wood door, eyes challenging Top-hyung until his hyung kisses him, parting his lips with a tongue and claiming his mouth.  Strong hands slide down the length of his arm, around the small of his back, down his ass to the back of his thighs where fingers grip him tight, hoisting him up until they’re the same height, his legs wrapping tight around Top-hyung’s hips.

 

It’s hot and wet and messy and so, so glorious.

 

Fucking hell.

 

_320_

 

Jiyong has convinced himself the song is about Kiko.  The sad thing is Kiko thinks the song is about her too.  And why wouldn’t she? They’ve been back together or over a month now and some of Jiyong’s best songs are about her.  This is definitely one of their better songs.  When Jiyong brings her to the studio for the recording her eyes light up the first time she hears hit, body and hips swaying to the rhythm.

 

Seungri knows better though.  When Jiyong raps, “It’s dangerous, you’re so dangerous babe,” seungri remembers a night so long ago, wanting to bang his head on the door as his hand twists a knob that won’t turn, hearing Jiyong hissing and gasping on the other side of the door because Yuto was doing filthy things to him with his mouth.

 

Yeah, this one is all about Yuto.

 

Well, fifty percent.

 

Top-hyung looks at him with those eyes, dark and dangerous, charismatic, the air charged between the two of them as his eyes lock with Seungri’s through the glass of the recording room.  “You’re forever twenty-five to me; won’t ever change babe, 5x5 babe.”

 

He preens.  He’s allowed.  He’s never had a song written about him before and this song is at least twenty-five percent about him.  (The other twenty-five percent is obviously about Teddy’s girlfriend.)

 

_293_

 

Chinen starts to really worry when a week passes by and nothing from Yuto.  No answers to the ten or so texts he had sent.  The first few days he figured Yuto was sulking, mad at him and the rest of the group sans Yamada.  They had ambushed him and told him he should break up with his boyfriend.  While the others issue with Yuto’s relationship had been that he was dating another man, unlike them Chinen’s issue had been the clear negative influence Big Bang’s leader had over Yuto.  Being late or missing work or disappearing without a word isn’t going to contribute anything good to their reputation as a group because their lives affect the lives of the staff, whether it be their own or the ones of magazines or variety shows.  People talk and rumors spread like wildfire.

 

He has no doubt in his mind that this Kwon Jiyong is the one who inspired the change in Yuto.  Their Yuto, the one from before was never late and would never dare miss work without sufficient reason (family emergency or a serious illness that bedriddens him) but at some point nine months ago Yuto started showing up late.  At first it was just once or twice, five, ten, no more than twenty minutes late and Chinen had brushed it off as bad traffic or bad days or something until suddenly it wasn’t just once or twice anymore.  It was every other week and then it became at least once a week, like a bad habit, and they were left waiting for an hour or two before Yuto finally showed up, apologizing profusely about having lost track of time until Yamada finally lost all patience and any benefit of the doubt he still held on to when Yuto hadn’t shown up for a concert rehearsal.

 

Chinen remembers eavesdropping in on that conversation.  Yamada didn’t raise his voice once which is more unnerving when you think about it.  Instead he spoke with a calm demeanor, arms on his knees as he looked up at Yuto through the fringe of his bags to tell him how disappointed he was.  Yamada hardly ever gets bad but when he says he’s disappointed in you you know you messed up.  Really bad, at that.  Yuto was sad for a few days but it was probably for the best because Yuto wasn’t late again after that.

 

So yes, Chinen couldn’t care less if Kwon Jiyong was a man, woman, a damn goat or alien.  The alien might actually be kind of cool.  What bothered him was that Yuto changed and not for the better.  If anything he’s bringing out the careless, rebellious side of Chinen’s friend and that could only end in disaster.  He’d done some research, some asking around and some googling and honestly, what it boils down to is that Yuto deserves someone much better than this.  He had wanted to convey this to Yuto but had gotten swept away with the group.  Definitely not one of his prouder moments.

 

Thankfully Yamada had stepped in and knocked some sense into them.  Well, some of them at least.

 

So he can understand if Yuto doesn’t want to talk to him, or any of them for a few days.  However, it’s been a week and still no communication nor a single text in reply to all the ones Chinen had sent.  Yuto doesn’t like to hold grudges, thinks they’re a waste of time and energy so Chinen’s half scared that Yuto’s lying in a ditch somewhere, dying because he’d gotten mixed up in whatever trouble Kwon Jiyong got himself involved in.  Yakuza or the Russian Mafia or something.

 

Without the assurances of their managers he probably would have called the police by now.  Instead he heads over to Yuto’s apartment to bury the hatchet, to apologize, whatever.  He tries the doorbell a few times but no answer.  Strange.  It’s still early yet and the managers had assured him Yuto had nothing scheduled the next few days.  He takes out his phone and tries calling and sure enough he hears his friend’s phone going on the other side of the door.  Okay.  Enough.  Yuto might still be mad but they’re still friends.  How is he supposed to apologize or make it up to him if Yuto refuses to see him?  Mind made up, he starts pounding on the door.

  
“Yutti!  Open up!”  Nothing.  “If you don’t open up I’ll give your number to fangirls!”  Still nothing.  He doesn’t have the patience for this.  Time to bring out the ultimate threat.  “I’ll call Yamada!  Don’t think I won’t!”  At first there’s nothing and he gets ready to make another threat -- he doesn’t know what he’ll threaten Yuto with next but he’ll find something -- until he hears shuffling behind the door before it finally opens.  The sight that greets him is almost enough to break his heart, however small it may be.  “Yutti…”

 

Yuto looks wrecked, eyes rimmed red and puffy, hair oily and tangled, clothes frumpled like he hasn’t changed in days.  He still tries to play chirpy though when he asks Chinen, “What’s up?” throat raw from not being used.

 

“What happened?”

 

Chinen watches as Yuto struggles with the tears before losing, chest heaving, hiccupping, trying to get enough air into his lungs to calm himself down.  Chinen ushers him inside quickly, locking the door behind him, Yuto not doing anything but standing where he’s at as he wipes away the tears and tries to stop crying.

 

This is all Kwon Jiyong’s fault.  He just knows it.

 

After too long, and after he’s managed to maneuver Yuto to the couch, Yuto finally starts to calm down, hiccuping only once or twice, eyes dry, knees drawn up to his chest.

 

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, patient and calm, exactly the opposite of how he feels inside.  Yuto only shrugs but he doesn’t push, waiting until Yuto is ready.

 

A minute passes, then two.  Five.  “We broke up.”  Oh.  “Actually, I’m not even sure there was anything to break up in the first place.  His ex came back and that was that.  Like I didn’t matter, you know?”  He sinks his forehead down onto his knees again and Chinen knows he’s going to start crying again because feeling worthless and used hurts.  It hurts even more when you say it out loud because that makes it real and it sucks to know there’s nothing more that he can do except be there for Yuto, be a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen with, and be the friend who takes Yuto out to help him forget and to remind him that hey, he’s an awesome person and if that asshole didn’t realize it that’s his loss.

 

Yuto will definitely find someone else (boy or girl, alien maybe?) worth more of his time than Kwon Jiyong.

 

_390_

 

The first week post Kiko and the breakup Jiyong spends his days in a state of constant drunkenness and his nights passed out.  So, the norm.  Jiyong never has to ask youngbae to stay by his side when he drows in his sorrows in booze.  In fact he’s never asked at all.  Youngbae always tries to be a good friend and that means not straying too far lest Jiyong actually does try to kill himself with alcohol.  Sad as it is Youngbae has gone through this numerous times already.  So much so that he’s used to it and knows what comes next.

 

Around day ten Jiyong starts sobering up which is a good thing because the worst of it is over but that also means he has enough wits on him to gather his phone and dial numbers.  Inevitably what follows are calls, apologies slurred into the phone.  “I’m sorry,” he would say.  “Please come back.  I was stupid.  I need you.”

 

To save his friend some dignity he tries the best he can to stop that from happening but Jiyong is a wily motherfucker who plays dirty and then locks himself in the bathroom.  This time is no different.

 

His fists pound into the door.  “Jiyong!  Man, open the door!  You really don’t want to do this!”

 

Predictably, Jiyong tells him to shut the hell up and then ignores him.

 

“Man, you’re gonna hate yourself in the morning!”  Still nothing.

 

He presses his ear against the door to listen.  “I’m sorry,” Jiyong slurs out.  Of course, always the apology first.  “Please come back.  I was stupid.  I need you.”  Youngbae sighs.  It’s never going to end with these two, is it?  “Please, pick up.  Yuto, please please please _please_.”

 

That throws him for a loop.  The thing with the kid ended when Kiko came back more than three months ago.  He didn’t even know Jiyong still thought about him but apparently he did if he was calling Yuto instead of Kiko, begging to be taken back rather than a booty call it looks like.  Considering that it’s Yuto and not Kiko he’s calling, Jiyong will be absolutely mortified come morning.  At least Kiko has heart it all before, hundreds of time at this point.  Youngbae hasn’t even heard Jiyong mention Yuto once since Kiko came back and he doubts they’ve kept in touch.  Last he heard from an upset Top-hyung, the kid had left wiping angry tears away with his sleeve.

 

He starts pounding the door again in fervor, demanding to be let in until ten minutes later Top-hyung has had enough, yanks his bedroom door open, Seungri poking his head out as Top-hyung marches over and picks his way into the bathroom.  Youngbae stares at him in shock but before he can ask Top-hyung stops him with a glare and a muttered, “Don’t ask,” before stalking back to his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

 

No, he’s going to ask later because what the hell?  When did he learn these things?  And what is going between Top-hyung and Seungri?  

 

But one problem at a time.  For now he turns his attention back to Jiyong to see his friend on the floor, back against the tub, the palm of his hands pressing into his eyes as his cell phone lies next to him.

 

A sigh escapes him.  He’s been sighing a lot lately.  Too much if you ask him.  “You okay, man?”  Jiyong does nothing but chuckle sadly, broken.  “So.  Yuto.”

 

“He won’t pick up.  He hates me.”

 

“He doesn’t hate you. The kid worshipped the ground you walked on.”

 

That makes Jiyong even sadder.  “He loved me, you know?”

 

Youngbae bites his tongue. Yeah, he knows.  Everyone with eyes could tell the kid was ass over heels in love with their leader. The only idiot who didn’t see it was Jiyong himself.  “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.  Seems incapable of it but I don’t think drunk calling him and demanding he take you back is going to when you any favors either.”

 

Jiyong laughs towards the ceiling but it comes out like a cry.  “It’s my fault.”

 

“You and Kiko or you and Yuto?”

 

“Both.  I thought this time for sure we could make it work.  No one ever fit with me the way she did but after Yuto it was different.  Something happened when we were apart and we don’t-” A stutter from Jiyong but Youngbae knows where this is headed -- a stroll down rosy-colored memories -- and he won’t stop until he’s finished. “We don’t fit anymore.  I can’t stop thinking about Yuto.  It was like… I would be doing something with Kiko and it would remind me of Yuto and I would miss him all over again.  

 

“I compared them all the fucking time in my head.  Like how it’s always so hard with her but it was so easy with Yuto. Like how she still drove me crazy but not in that crazy beautiful way anymore.  Yuto made me feel at peace all the fucking time. We talked about music, you know?  He just kept tapping away at stuff -- the piano, the stupid desk, finger on that that damn couch.  I never cared too much to ask but Top-hyung and I were just messing around with a new melody one day and out of fucking nowhere he just tells us we should add drums.  Played the whole fucking rhythm for us from start to finish in one go and he made it look so easy.  I didn’t even know he could play the fucking drums. That’s our new song, you know?  It was so fucking perfect it was almost unbelievable how easy the song fell together after that.

 

“And he took a million pictures of the same things and he laughed at the dumbest jokes and he was such a dork with his love for _Star Wars_ and he watched stupid period dramas with me and didn’t laugh when I cried.  When I thought I had him figured out he’d just pop up with something new.  Horseback riding, Iaido.  Kiko isn’t him but that was the worst part because it made me missed him all the fucking time.”

 

Youngbae gets it.  Sometimes you realize things a bit too late.  Jiyong probably ran back to Kiko because she was familiar -- all he knew of love -- and she had been what he wanted for the longest time.  But if Jiyong feels this strongly about Yuto then in his mind there’s only one course of action Jiyong could take.

 

“So, win the kid back.”

 

Jiyong drops his head between his previously drawn up knees. “He hates me.”

 

Jiyong can be so melodramatic sometimes.  “I’m not saying it will be easy but if you want him, show him.”

 

“How am I supposed to do that when he won’t talk to me?”

 

“Figure it out.  Maybe stop drunk calling him.”

 

He receives a punch for his sound advice.  “I’m sober you asshole.”

 

“You’re sober NOW,” he shoots back.  The statement teases a smile out of Jiyong.  It’s nice to see him smiling again.

 

Obviously, because Jiyong is Jiyong, the drunk calling Yuto doesn’t stop.

 

280

 

It’s Keito who spots Yuto first. They’re sharing a piece of a cake on the veranda of some cafe Takaki recommended when suddenly Keito lights up and cups his hands around his mouth ready to call out to someone only to stop dead in his tracks, arms falling limp at his side and mouth slacked open.

 

“What is it?” he asks, turning his head side to side scanning the mostly empty area in an attempt to find what had caught Keito’s attention before.

 

Slowly, Keito manages to ask, “That’s Yuto, right?” pointing to two figures in the distance, one a head above the others and the other with shockingly bright, vivid pink hair.

 

Sure enough, underneath the sunglasses and the fedora he spots the familiar features of their group member.  How Keito was able to see anyone or anything beyond the distractingly pink head of hair, Yamada will never know.  “Yeah, so?  What’s the problem?”

 

“Is that Suda Masaki with him?”

 

Yamada looks again.  Logical enough conclusion.  The only person they know or have heard of dyeing their hair pink is Suda but Suda is about the same height as Yuto and this person is an inch or two too short.  “I don’t think so… has Yuto mentioned a new friend lately?”

 

Come to think of it, he hasn’t hung out with Yuto in months.  Yuto seems to be MIA most of the time now and he doesn’t remember the last time he did anything with Yuto outside of work.  Now is as good a time as any.

 

“Should we go over?  It will be fun to hang out with Yuto again.”

 

The expression on Keito’s face says he thinks otherwise.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

 

Perplexed, he asks, “Why?”

 

Keito is silent for a moment too long, making Yamada impatient but then he instructs Yamada to keep watching.  A few minutes passes and, annoyed, he wonders what he’s supposed to be looking for.  He opens his mouth to ask just that when finally he realizes what’s going on and stops.

 

It’s a date.

 

Yuto is on a date.  

 

Yuto is on a date with another man.  Androgynous.  Gorgeous.  But still clearly a man.  If he said he wasn’t surprised, he’d be lying. Yuto has never given any indication that he was interested in men before.  He had always talked about cute girls with long, black hair wearing glasses setting his heart beating faster.  But then again, if Yuto  _was_ interested in men, would he really tell them?  Would he tell anyone?

 

The silence draws itself out between him and Keito as they keep watching, unable to pull themselves away.  For the most part they’re not overt or anything, this is still Japan after all, and for any passerby they may only look like two extremely close friends.  But Yamada knows Yuto better than that, he should after having spent half his life growing up with him.

 

This Yuto is different from any of the Yuto’s he has seen before.  It’s still the same mannerisms, still that same full body laugh he does when he tosses his head back and claps his hand together furiously, that embarrassed expression on his face he tries to hide with the slide of his hand diagonally along the side of his nose until it covers half his face, the only visible part to the viewer being one uncovered eye and any skin above that.

 

Yamada watches as the pink haired man crowds into Yuto’s space like he belongs there, boldly sliding Yuto’s fedora down to hide the side of their faces for a moment before stepping back and plopping the fedora back down on Yuto’s head.  There’s no doubt as to what happened behind that wall of hat.  Yuto is practically beaming.

 

The most striking thing of all is that Yuto looks so damn happy and in love, especially when he drapes his arm around said person’s shoulder like it was the only natural thing to do as they walk further and further away from him and Keito.

 

_281_

 

Yamada knew he should have told Keito to keep what they saw to themselves.  It’s nobody else’s business but Yuto’s and if he doesn’t want to share with them he’s not obligated too.  But it had slipped his mind at the end of the day and by the next morning everyone in JUMP knew Yuto was seeing someone.  Not just someone though.  A male someone.

 

Yamada bites his tongue as the group congresses to discuss Yuto’s private life without Yuto himself there to have any say.  Everything about it feels wrong.

 

“G-Dragon,” Chinen confirms for the rest of them.  “From Big Bang.”

 

“Big Bang?” Takaki asks, a puzzled look on his face.

 

“Korean idol group,” Yamada provides for them when it seems like no one might know who they were, even Daiki but he’s not surprised there.  Daiki, in return, gives him a questioning look and he returns it with his own pointed one.  “VI was in the Hong Kong Kindaichi Special with us.  He’s part of Big Bang.”

 

“Ah!  I remember now.”  Clearly a lie if Daiki’s shifty eyes are anything to go by but Yamada lets it slip by.  It’s not important at the moment.  

 

Instead he turns to Chinen and asks, “You knew?”

 

Chinen answers him with a shrug.  “It wasn’t my place to say.  But now that everyone knows…”

 

 _What?_   Yamada wants to ask when Chinen trails off.  _Are we just going to gang up on Yutti now?  
_

 

Truthfully he understands where everyone is coming from.  They make sound arguments.  They’re idols which means they make their living off of being role models to the public.  The public doesn’t take too kindly to homosexual relationships no matter how in love or real or happy the people may be and if it were ever to come out that Yuto is dating another man that would impact the group as a whole negatively.  He understands why everyone is worried and why they would want to stop it before anyone finds out.

 

But telling Yuto who he can and cannot be with feels absolutely wrong.

 

By the time Yuto walks into their rehearsal room with a huge grin plastered on his face Yamada has made up his mind.  Why hadn’t he noticed it before?  Yuto is so damn happy but now they’re going to tear all that down with harsh words and lack of intolerance.

 

Yuto notices the grim looks on their faces and he slows to a stop.  “Everyone okay?  Am I late again?  I thought we said eight.”

 

“Why don’t you come sit with us.”  Yabu motions to the empty seat next to him.  “We need to talk.”

 

Everyone says their piece. Takaki starts first, talks about how unnatural it is for two meant to be together, that nature made it so that men and women are supposed to be together, that’s why they can have kids.  Yamada finds himself asking about couples who can’t have kids because they physically cannot, whether it be due to health reasons or infertility or inability to carry to term.  What about them then?  Are they too, unnatural?  But what does natural even mean?

 

Mostly everyone hums in agreement, interjecting their own thoughts here and there to reinforce Takaki’s point.

 

Yamada observes Yuto’s face throughout the whole ordeal, watches his face fall and heartbreak written in the wrinkles of his forehead, sees the beginnings of tears welling up in his eyes as Yuto blinks them away quickly before anyone else can see.  He puts on a brave face, a fake smile for everyone else’s benefit but enough is enough.  This is going too far.

 

He waits for them to finish and for everyone to turn to him to put the final nail in the coffin.  He’s the core of the group, his words have more weight than anyone else’s.  He sits across from Yuto, silent for a few moments as he gathers his thoughts, elbows on his knees, fingers twined and the back of his knuckles pressing against his mouth and nose. Finally, he raises his head from its gaze on the ground locks eyes with Yuto.  “I think you should do what you want.”  His tone is serious, controlled, words carefully thought out and succinct, clear that so no one would misunderstand.  “Everyone can have secret girlfriends so I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to have a secret boyfriend.”

 

At this Yabu and Takaki start to protest, instinctive noises of protest rising from their throats.  Yamada shuts them down with one sentence.  “If Yuto has to stop seeing this guy, then both of you have to break up with your girlfriends too.”

 

He turns back to Yuto.  “Fair is fair.  If you’re happy then I will support you.”

 

Yuto, for his part, looks touched.  “Yamada… thank you.”

 

Yamada shrugs it off.  There’s nothing for Yuto to be thankful for.  “You deserve happiness too.”

 

Practice after is tense.  Half the group seems to have accepted it and moved on, knowing there’s nothing more they can do.  The other half is not seething so much as just awkward around Yuto as if he was going to suddenly attack them or infect them, as if sexuality was contagious.  Yamada ignores it.  It will blow over eventually and if it doesn’t, he’s going to have a talk with some of them about tolerance and acceptance and what it means in friendships.

 

What are they going to do though? Tell their managers?  Tell the company?  People who have abandoned them for about half their debuted years?  And then what?  They would probably get punished as a group and then who knows when they’d be able to do anything together again, if at all.  It’s sad that it’s come to that but ultimately they will have to accept that everyone is different and that doesn’t necessarily make anyone else lesser.

 

Yuto is still Yuto.

 

If they need to be reminded, he will remind them.  He will stand by Yuto no matter what.

 

Keito and Chinen run to catch up with him after practice is over.  Truthfully, with how practice had gone he’s not really in the mood to talk but he’s not going to run away either.  He keeps his pace until they both stop in front of him, forcing him to do the same as well.

 

“Ryosuke,” Keito begins first, regret and guilt in his eyes.  “I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m sorry too,” Chinen chips in.

 

Yamada sighs.  “Look, I know you guys feel bad but I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.  You should say these words to Yutti.  He sat through you guys making him feel like a freak without attacking you guys back.  He pauses to take in a deep breath, reigning in his emotions.  “If you really feel that bad then apologize to Yutti.  Not me.”

 

He leaves them and their troubled faces behind, bag slung over his shoulder.

 

_286_

 

Once that needle hits his skin Yuto knows there will be no going back.  Top has pounded that statement into his head relentlessly time and time again for the past week, him and Seungri both.  Top is willing to support him but Seungri is adamantly against this whole thing from beginning to end.  But after that impromptu, misguided but with the best intention intervention from his group and Yamada choosing to side with him, it felt like the right thing to do.

 

While in that chair between Yabu and Takaki listening to everyone give their reasons for why he should give up Jiyong, the sudden realization that he couldn’t hit him like a bullet train.  It had ached, sitting there contemplating the idea alone was too much.  They are his group after all, and these were concerns that involved everyone especially since their lives and futures are so interconnected.  But he couldn’t give them the answer they wanted.  If push had come to shove he would have left it all behind.  He might not have a lot of skills outside of being an idol but he’s young, he’ll find someone else to do.  The thought had still scared him to the core though and thankfully Yamada had stepped in with measured words, eyes that said he wasn’t kidding as he told everyone Yuto deserves to be happy too.  Yuto understood then just as he does now.  He’s human too and that means he has the right to love whoever he wants.  That doesn’t change who he is though.  Hopefully soon everyone would see that.

 

After that day he made up his mind.  He might be young and people might call him stupid, the gods know that Top has muttered that under his breath a million times by now, especially since he thinks Yuto doesn’t understand -- Seungri has been teaching him a few words though and he thinks he might be picking up a few things -- but what’s so wrong with believing that he can be with Jiyong forever?  Why think that just because it’s his first real love that it’s going to end?  Isn’t that just setting the relationship up to fail?  No, Yuto chooses to hold onto that belief.  He’s going to stay with Jiyong forever because even so young he knows he’ll never feel this way about anyone else again.

 

That first meeting with Jiyong behind FujiTV had happened by chance.  He really had walked out of that door lost like Chinen had assumed, just looking for a way out of the building so he could circle his way to the front when he stumbled into Jiyong, gorgeous and beautiful as he took in a drag of his cigarette.  Jiyong had him the moment their eyes met and in a way, he thinks he had Jiyong too.

 

Finding Jiyong in that club and meeting at the bar a few days later felt more like fate.  In a city of thirteen million people not counting tourists and visitors tied in with the fact that he usually does not go clubbing, doesn’t really go even now unless it’s with Jiyong and his friends, it feels more like a miracle, like the universe and the gods coming together to conspire against them.

 

In the end JIyong was much more than he could have realized that first chance meeting, the boy with a cigarette between his lip and fingers, bright red hair and tattoo barely hidden on his hand, flirting with him as he offered Yuto a drag.  There’s a complexity there, a depth beyond that confident bad boy demeanor Jiyong displays to the public that keeps him endlessly intrigued.  Jiyong shows him different ways to live, to have fun, to stop worrying so much about what everyone else was doing or what everyone else thought and that felt like finding freedom for the first time.

 

So yeah, he wants this tattoo.  It’s something concrete, something he can look at and say is real.  Doesn’t mean he isn’t scared though.

 

“You sure about this, kid?” Top asks, seated next to him but out of the way, the needle in the tattoo artists hand already turned on and buzzing, waiting for the two of them to finish their exchange before she starts.

 

“Never been more sure,” he replies even as his voice shakes and his hands grip the chair, a move that Top doesn’t miss.

 

He offers Yuto a hand in show of support and in return Yuto, thankful, grips it.  The needles hits his skin -- a smooth patch along his hip bone -- and there’s no going back now.

 

When it’s cover and they’re both walking back to the apartment Top shares with Jiyong, Yuto is bursting with excitement and adrenaline, hormones running rampant in his brain.

 

“How do you feel?” Top asks, a small smile gracing his lips as pushes the door open, watching Yuto’s antics out of the corner of his eyes.

 

“Invincible,” he breathes out as they enter the apartment and he sees Jiyong in the living room, hair wet and pacing.  “Hey,” he says in greeting, cheerful, feeling an automatic smile of affection splitting his face when he waltzes over to plant a quick kiss on Jiyong’s mouth and moving back before Jiyong could properly respond.  “There’s something I want to show you.”

 

“Look, Yuto.  I don’t- I don’t know how to say this but just- Okay.  Just let me talk first, okay?”

 

Jiyong’s expression, pained and guilty, stops him cold, dread building in the pit of his stomach.  “What’s wrong?”

 

A deep breath.  “I’m sorry.  I like you.  I really like you a lot.  It’s that well-”

 

“Babe?” a voice interrupts, a woman emerging from the hallway, hair wet and clothed in only Jiyong’s shirt.

 

It’s devastating the moment everything falls into place.  His throat closes, rendering him unable to utter a syllable and tears well up in his eyes.  He can’t do this right now, not as the woman introduces herself to Yuto as Jiyong’s girlfriend, so he puts distance between all of them by way of rushing out the door, Top fast on his heels after tossing his bandmate a withering glare.

 

“Yuto!” he exclaims as he catches up to Yuto, a hand on his shoulder to stop him.  “I’m sorry.”

 

“What do you have to be sorry for?” he shoots back, blinking furiously, willing his eyes to stay dry.

 

“If I had known, I wouldn’t have let you get that tattoo.”

 

He feels so foolish now.  The tears fall against his will and he wipes at them angrily with the the sleeve of his shirt but once they fall they refuse to stop.  Top’s hand comes up to rest at the neck of his neck and tugs him in for a hug, hand warm where it stays planted.

 

“I’m sorry, kid,” he says again, voice rumbling from deep within his chest, and Yuto buries his face in Top’s shoulder and cries his heart out.

 

Later, after Top guides him back to his own apartment, Seungri swings by with a tub of ice cream each and a tattered copy of _Titanic_.  They sit with their feet propped up on his coffee table, watching the movie (in English with Japanese subtitles), eating their ice cream right from the carton and when the heartache hits him again and he starts to cry it’s okay because by the time Rose jumps back onto the ship for Jack they’re all crying.

 

_99_

 

Despite his best efforts to not get involved with the people Jiyong dates or fool around with, Top realizes too late that he’s already freaking involved and invested.  That Nakajima Yuto, he’s precocious.  Him and Seungri both.  They might look innocent on the surface, Yuto more than Seungri, but they both sure know how to get what they want when the time calls for it, especially if what they want is to worm their way into someone’s life.  Just look at Jiyong.  The poor sucker.  Yuto has him wrapped around his little finger and he doesn’t even know it.

 

As for Top it starts with, predictably, Seungri.  The Seungri who is overconfident in himself, who is selfish and demanding and doesn’t give a rat’s ass what anyone else wants or feels, who chased after Top relentlessly without a second thought because he didn’t want to settle until there was nothing else Top could do but give in.  How could he not?  Seungri is endearing and exasperating and intoxicating in both the best and worst ways, making Top want to posses and own and cherish and keep safe.  He’s not willing to say love quite yet, not even sure if they will ever get there.

 

So Seungri.  Seungri loves people, the social butterfly that he is, and he loves celebrities most of all, more than all the pretty women who love to surround him.  When it dawns on him who Yuto is two weeks after the kid starts his thing with Jiyong, (“Hey!Say!JUMP!” he had exclaimed in the middle of a game,) Seungri had attached himself like a leech. Minus all the blood-sucking.  Mostly.  But Seungri is greedy and he wants it all so he ignores Top ignoring him and the three of them hang out, playing video games and watching dramas when Jiyong ignores the kid, and sometimes when Seungri isn’t there they hang out, just the two of them.

 

It was awkward at first because he speaks so little Japanese and Yuto speaks no Korean.  Without Seungri to translate or mitigate Yuto carries the conversation more than half the time.  But Yuto makes it work, tries his best by installing an app on his phone that lets him translate and look up words in Korean.  Watching the kid try so hard just to have a conversation with him, yeah, he has always been a sucker for that kind of stuff.  Maybe because he’s lonely too on this isolated island with no one to talk to but his bandmates.

 

He knows he lost to the kid when the kid calls him “Hyung” one day, overly bright grin on his proud  face, and then asks him how his day was, how his god-damn flowers were doing.

 

So, against his wishes and without him even knowing it until it was too late, he grows to actually care about the kid, about his well-being and his feelings because they’ve become something like friends.  Which makes it even harder to watch the kid fall so hard for Jiyong.

 

It’s going to end in heartbreak and it won’t be Jiyong in tatters, sad as that is to say. Jiyong may live life like he’s in love most of the time, fond even of the people he messes around with, but he’s only ever been in love once and has never quite gotten over it.

 

But Yuto is part of his now and he always protects his own so while Seungri and Yuto talk in rapid Japanese about who the hell knows what, he nudges Jiyong’s foot with his own while they sit with their backs against the couch, PS4 controller in their hands as they mash buttons, and he says, “If you hurt him I might have to punch you.”

 

“Hyung!” Jiyong sounds scandalized as his character dies onscreen.

 

Top shrugs it off.  “Fair warning.”

 

“It’s not like that.”

 

He wants to laugh.  Not like that.  Jiyong is delusional.  “Keep telling yourself that.”

 

Jiyong’s character dies again under the merciless hands of Top’s own character.  “What if I’m the one who gets hurt?”

 

Top pauses the game and raises a skeptical eyebrow at him, asking without words, “Really?”

 

They exchange silent stares for a few seconds before Jiyong concedes.  “Yeah, okay.  Consider myself fairly warned.”

 

There’s nothing more he can do but he really hopes he is wrong this time around.  He doesn’t like violence, thinks using fists to solve problems is brutish and barbaric but then anyone who hurts a kid as good as Yuto is probably the exception to this.  Sad thing is Jiyong probably won’t know what he had until he’s thrown it away.

 

_438_

 

Of all the songs Jiyong has written over the years he is still most attached to _Haru Haru_.  He thinks no one knows but Seungri sees right through him.  In concerts and performances when the crowd starts to sing along with them in unison Jiyong always gets a little choked up. Maybe it’s because it’s one of the ones Jiyong spent the longest time writing.  Maybe it’s because it’s one of the ones he put his heart into, lamenting about pain and heartache and loss and letting go like only a teenager experiencing the loss of a first love can.

 

Whatever it may be he still doesn’t expect to hear the familiar chords and melody of the song to waft out of their studio and into the halls of the YG building.  There’s no singing accompanied, just the pinging of soft piano keys in the air, sad and melancholic.

 

He had arrived ten minutes earlier with Top-hyung, both still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes. Unable to function without his coffee Top had wandered his way down to the cafeteria to get his first fix for the day, shouting strict instructions to not start without him behind him as he left.  The whole recording session would probably go better without Jiyong and Top-hyung in the same room.

 

Honestly he feels like the two of them use him as a buffer more than half the time these days after what happened with Yuto.  It was most apparent during the three month period Jiyong and Kiko were back together.  Seungri gets where his boyfriend (boyfriend?) was coming from though.  Yuto is a good kid and probably didn’t deserve to find out like that.  The least Jiyong could have done was waited until they officially broke up (were they ever really together?) before restarting his thing with Kiko.  Life is life though and sometimes it deals you a shitty hand.

 

It’s not like the relationship between Top-hyung and Jiyong is strained or in shambles or anything because Jiyong and Top are friends to, have been friends for almost half their lives now.  Even if Top had been upset with Jiyong for weeks after it wasn’t going to destroy their friendship.  At least he never followed through on that punch he promised.  That might have been a little harder for the two of them to get through.

 

Just because they’re still friends doesn’t mean everything is all rainbows and sunshine.  Top-hyung is still a little upset over how everything went down.  Seungri knows he still keeps in contact with Yuto.  It’s not like it’s a secret.  He doesn’t try to hide it from Seungri at least.  Seungri understands.  They got close because Yuto likes photography and Top-hyung loves pop art (and chairs, let’s not forget the chairs).  Yuto is filled with a thousand words per minute and Top-hyung is a man of about as many words as a rock but Yuto drags words (Japanese ones!) out of Top when he listens to every sentence so eagerly like it’s the most exciting thing he’s ever heard.  Top-hyung has a weakness for people like Yuto; people who are sincere and genuine and open and friendly, people who aren’t scared of him.  People who are naive and innocent and filled with so much hope and good.  Top-hyung latches on to those type of people because he wants to protect them.

 

Okay, maybe once in awhile he gets jealous.  Anyone in their right mind would.  He can’t ignore the fact that Yuto is gorgeous.  He watched the two of them side by side once, raving and ranting, Yuto with big hand gestures and movements and Top-hyung with full body laughter as Yuto reads Korean words off of his phone to keep the conversation going.  They had looked beautiful together, both tall and long limbed, strong defined jawlines and beautiful faces with expressive eyes and clean cut lines that run from their shoulders to their waists to their feet.

 

He didn’t think anyone could be as beautiful as their oldest member and then he met Nakajima Yuto.

 

So sometimes he gets jealous and Top-hyung will pick up on it from the way Seungri becomes cold and distant while being petty, and he’ll grab Seungri by the back of his neck, hand gentle, fingers in his hair, and he’ll drag Seungri into his arms and say into his hear, “You’re an idiot, you know that?” and though the words are harsh they make him feel so much better afterwards.

 

“What are you doing?” scares him half to death, shocking him out of his thoughts.  He tears his eyes away from the doorknob to face Top-hyung, two cups of coffee, one in each hand.

 

“I think Jiyong-hyung misses Yuto,” he replies, low so as to keep the conversation between the two of them.  Top-hyung looks at him like he’s lying, so he nods his head towards the door when the melody of _Haru Haru_ starts again, slower and sadder this time.

 

“Probably Kiko.  I doubt it’s Yuto.”

 

Seungri shrugs but he’s not too sure about that.  Jiyong hasn’t mentioned Kiko once since they broke up.  But then again, he hasn’t mentioned Yuto either.  This time is different though.  Jiyong-hyung seems to be in a slump of depression he can’t get out of, like he’s well and truly given up.  If it was about Kiko, Jiyong would have known that they’d find their way back together, they always did before.

 

The recording is rough, their voices raw and unused this early in the morning but Jiyong doesn’t question them, hardly puts up a fight against Top-hyung’s suggestions.  He lets them do whatever they want, let’s them feel the lyrics and the music, and hardly does he stop them mid-lyric to demand they start over.  He sits in his chair and stares at them through dark tinted sunglasses, arms crossed over his chest.

 

He looks sad and lonely.

 

They record over and over and over, Top-hyung for almost an hour non-stop until his throat his raw, until his singing just gets steadily worse and then it’s Seungri’s turn.  Again and again, letting the feel of the song seep into him.  Jiyong listens, unmoving, unhappy, lips a thin line until the music stops and he tells Seungri they’ve got the cuts they needed.

 

When it’s Jiyong’s turn it’s one long, sad chorus of too breathy sighs and cracked high notes that the song needed for the rawness and pain of emotion, like Jiyong is quietly, slowly breaking down as he sings about getting back together if it’s not too late and about how he should have treated her (but really, him because this song is definitely about Yuto) better when they were together.

 

He spins in his chair to face Top-hyung, concentration clear on his face as his brows furrow, and it hits him that if it ever ends between the two of them he’ll be exactly where Jiyong is right now.  Seungri realizes right then and there that fuck, he’s in love.

 

Loving someone isn’t something you keep to yourself.  If you love someone, you should let that person know.  Communication is key to making anything work and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try everything to make it work between the two of them.

 

He extends his leg out and kicks Top-hyung’s chair.  He receives a grunt in return.  He kicks again.

 

Top-hyung sighs and spins to face him.  “What?” he asks, tone rough.

 

Seungri ignores that.  “I love you.”

 

He smiles at the way Top-hyung’s expression morphs from something akin to annoyance to complete and utter shock.

 

“Seungri…”

 

“Hyung, I love you.”  He’s more insistent this time.  Still nothing but silence and that hurts more than anything he’d ever experienced before, more than being kicked in the balls during that Baskin Robbins commercial shooting years ago, more than being cut from the group the first time, more than being treated like a child those two months Top-hyung had ignored his arduous attention.  Tears prickle at his eyes, his throat tight and clenched.

 

Seungri takes it back.  Communication is not key.  He forces out a laugh he doesn’t feel.  “I was joking!” he lies, trying to play it off as harmless fun.  Top-hyung isn’t buying.

 

Jiyong finishes singing and asks into the mic if anything is wrong.  Seungri wants to escape, knows that this is his chance to run out the door while Top-hyung is distracted with Jiyong but he keeps himself in place, steady, controlled breathing.  He refuses to run like a coward no matter how bad the reply may be.

 

The song starts from the top, slow plucking of guitar strings filling the room.  He faces Top-hyung still, waiting with bated breath but Top-hyung watches Jiyong sing instead, shoulders tense, scared, like he can’t look at Seungri when he says it back.  And he does.  There’s no doubt about it.

 

“I love you, too,” rings clear in his year, warmth and love and affection blooming in his chest.

 

He reaches out and nudges Top-hyung’s foot with his.  Top-hyung ignores him but Seungri sees the grin he tries but fails to hide.

 

_421_

 

Youngbae doesn't understand why Jiyong keeps doing this to himself.  He’s stopped with the drinking and the drugs and the partying out until the wee hours of the morning to try and forget.  He’s stopped calling Yuto half drunk and half high, a stream of Japanese and Korean words intermixing until all meaning is lost.  He seems determined to truly leave the boy alone.  He’s given up and Youngbae knows he’s ready to move on but once in awhile he’ll visit when Top and Seungri are extra loud doing things he doesn’t want to think about in Seungri’s room and he’ll find Jiyong sitting in the living room, blank look on his face as he listens to the kid’s music.

 

“What are you doing, man?” he asks as he toes off his shoes and walks in.

 

Jiyong smiles up at him, something between real and not.  He’s getting harder and harder to read and that scares Youngbae.  He’s never not known what Jiyong was thinking.  “I think I’m starting to understand the appeal of these songs.”

 

Youngbae can’t contain the laugh.  “Serious?”

 

Jiyong hums a positive response.  “Their singles are still terrible half the time but their b-sides are good.  The stuff from their albums are good too.”  He pats the seat next to him, signaling for Youngbae to sit.  “Listen.”

 

The words are too fast for him to catch completely but sure enough the soft-tempo ballad isn’t half bad.  It’s pretty with a tinge of sadness and yearning that Japanese idol music often ignores in favor of more energetic uptempo beats but this song is the kind that settles into the crevices and keeps you listening over and over again.

 

“What’s the song about?” he asks.

 

A wry laugh.  “Love.”  Then lower, almost to himself, “I want to be enveloped in this light called you.”

 

“Is he the good one in this?”

 

Jiyong’s mouth splits into a wide grin, baring pearly white teeth and fondly he says, “Yuto is shit at singing.  Sometimes he gets it right though.  He’s surprising that way.”

 

It’s so painfully clear how much Jiyong adores Yuto still, how much he cares and thinks about him.  “You love him?” he asks either way.  Jiyong’s never said it out loud to anyone, hasn’t even uttered the words “like” or “fond of” either, not to Youngbae at least.  

 

In true Kwon Jiyong fashion, he gives Youngbae an enigmatic smile but keeps his lips zipped.  It’s not like Youngbae needs it confirmed when he already knows.  Yuto might just be the one that got away and it seems like Jiyong has accepted that as fact.  That’s kind of sad.

 

_458_

 

Yuto’s phone pings with a short message from Top while he’s in the middle of cleaning his apartment.  _Did you get it yet?_   the text staring up at him reads.  Sure enough, like in one of those Korean romantic comedies Yamada likes to watch, his doorbell rings the moment he finishes reading.  How does Top always do this?

 

 _It just arrived_ he sends back while walking to the door.  The package is tiny, barely more than two inches thick all around and weights absolutely nothing in his hands.  Do they even make packages this tiny?  _What is it?_ he sends off before Top could reply to his previous message.

 

He rips open the package while walking back to his living room, random pieces of cardboard littering his floor until all that’s left is a jump drive.  Before he plugs it into his laptop, his phone buzzes and pings again.  _Top secret.  I will have to kill you if you leak it_.

 

 _Maybe I don't want it_ he shoots back.

 

Top ignores his message completely and barrels on.  _Lyrics included.  Thank Seungri.  
_

 

He plugs the drive into his computer and only two things pop up: an audio file and a word document.  This is a first.  When they were still living in Japan Top would play potential new songs for him and ask him his opinion but since they had returned to Korea Top hasn’t sent anything for him to listen from overseas.  Weren’t Big Bang almost done with their album by now?  That’s what Seungri had told him at least.

 

He was expecting a pounding bass line married with a fast heart thumping beat so he is surprised when the soft strings of a guitar waft up from the speakers to fill in the silence.  It’s different from anything Big bang has done before but it’s beautiful and haunting with Top’s deep voice filling the room first, a defeated low bass that reverberates with him.  He didn’t realize Top could sing, albeit with much less finesse than the other members of his group but still touching all the same.  Then the sharp contrast of Seungri’s much higher singing voice turns the song away from a deep dark depression into a slow yearning ache that still hits a little too close to home.

 

The second time around he reads the lyrics as the song plays, following the rise and fall of the melody, hearing the tiny cracks in Jiyong’s voice.  Jiyong always did know how to tug at heartstrings, his especially with lyrics that ask, “Why didn’t I know about the weight of sadness that comes with breaking up?”  _You tell me_ , Yuto wants to demand in return.

 

“If you’re suffering like I am, can’t we make things a little easier?”  Jiyong makes it sound so easy, like getting back together would magically fix everything.  All the times he felt like crap and all the tears and the months of pain and wondering if he would ever be okay again would just disappear like they never existed.  It doesn’t.  He’s not bitter about it anymore, especially not since meeting Jiyong that last time because it became clear he wasn’t the only one suffering.  In fact it looks like he was doing better than Jiyong and that surprised him most of all.

 

But then that final, “I should have treated you better when I had you.”  That acknowledgement alone makes his heart flutter.  Add that to Seungri’s little message at the end of the lyrics (it did bring an unbidden smile to his lips) and he doesn’t really know what to do anymore.

 

“There’s no point in suffering separately when you can be happy together.”

 

These Big Bang members, they make everything sound so easy when it’s really, really, really not at all.

 

Yuto isn’t ready to jump back into anything quite yet even if Jiyong wants to.  It took a long time for him to even feel remotely okay with himself, to feel better, and he isn’t willing to throw that all away just quite yet.  That doesn’t mean they can’t be friends, right?  People are friends with their ex’s all the time.  He can do that at least, right?  But wouldn’t it be better to just not?  Chinen keeps preaching to him about clean breaks and well, that makes sense too.

 

Too bad Top isn’t here to talk this through with him.  Top has a way of clearing up the fog even when he utters less than two words together.

 

He ponders what he’ll do for hours, the song playing on loop in the background of his day until finally he opens a new message and his fingers quickly type out, “When you’re in Japan next, let’s catch up,” and sends it off before he can change his mind, heart pounding in his chest.

 

_500_

 

They’re in the middle of a period drama about a Korean Queen when Jiyong’s phone goes off.  He picks it up on the third ring after he’s dug his phone out of his impossibly tight jeans and with an apologetic smile to Yuto he steps off the couch and away but still within earshot.

 

Most of the words exchanged are in Korean, an english word thrown in here and there so Yuto really has no hope of deciphering the meaning, not that he means to or wants to eavesdrop.  Hey, it’s not like he can turn off his ears, okay?  The human body doesn’t work like that.  His ears do perk up though when he hears the word “boyfriend” in English, said so casually like it’s natural, Jiyong’s eyes flickering away once he sees that Yuto is watching him now instead of the drama.

 

Suddenly his own phone buzzes with a text from Seungri.

 

 _Jiyong-hyung just called you his boyfriend.  He's testing you,_ it reads.

 

_What do you mean he's testing me?  
_

 

_He said "boyfriend" in English instead of Korean so you would understand.  If you react badly he will play it off as a joke._

 

_If I don't say anything?  
_

 

_;)_

 

So.  _So_.  Yeah.  How long has it been now since they started hanging out again?  Yuto hadn’t expected a quick reply after he had sent that first text so he definitely wasn’t expecting to see Jiyong at his door less than three hours later, huffing and puffing like he’d ran a mile just to see Yuto.

 

“I thought you were in Korea?”

 

Jiyong had ignored his question.  “I’m in Japan now so let’s catch up.  Dinner and a movie or something.”

 

“Dinner and a movie.”  A beat passes by.  “Like a date.”

 

Jiyong must have seen the apprehension on his face or heard the hesitancy in his voice because though his face fell he was quick to reassure Yuto.  “Or friends,” he had said, fast as lightning.  “I can do friends.”  Pain flickers across Jiyong’s face like the words physically hurt to say.  Yuto appreciates that.

 

That’s how they ended up here, weeks later, Jiyong flying back and forth between Japan and Korea to spend time with Yuto and to promote his singles.  It’s going to be a long summer if he wants to keep this up.  It worries Yuto, the way Jiyong keeps pushing himself through intense schedules, made harder by the fact that he refuses to not visit Yuto on his days off.  It’s like he’s scared Yuto won’t want to see him anymore if they spend too much time apart.

 

Which is really stupid if you know how crazy Yuto is over Jiyong.

 

Yuto had forgotten how easy it was to fall fast and hard for Kwon Jiyong, this time being no different.  It was easy the way they slipped back to how they were before, like they never stopped.  Though they hadn’t held hands or kissed or done anything beyond that they still touched constantly, Jiyong’s hand on the small of his back, his arm thrown around Jiyong’s shoulder.  They moved around the apartment and each other with familiarity and the way he frames Jiyong through the lens of his camera has not changed.  Jiyong had been patient, aware of the unspoken boundaries Yuto had set up and he hadn’t pushed but it’s time for Yuto to be honest with himself.  The moment he had sent off that text and Jiyong had shown up on his doorstep, they were never not heading towards this moment.

 

“So, boyfriend?” he asks when Jiyong settles back down in his seat next to Yuto, keeping his tone neutral, his face blank.

 

Just like Seungri said he would Jiyong laughs and tries to plays it off as a joke, the laughter dying when he sees the serious look in Yuto’s eyes.  He tries to keep it up as long as he could.  Watching Jiyong squirm is never not fun but too soon his facade begins to break, the corner of his eyes crinkling and his mouth quirking into a happy smile.

 

“You little shit,” Jiyong says even as he tugs Yuto towards him, nestling Yuto’s head under his chin.

 

“You love me,” he teases.  He stops the moment the words leave his mouth, starting to tense, thinks it’s too soon even if he was just kidding but Jiyong doesn’t seem to pick up the panic starting to rise in Yuto before he hums in agreement.

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

_Wow._

 

His breath catches in his throat.

 

He can never feel this way about anyone else.

 

Only Jiyong.

 

It’s only ever been Jiyong.

 

Does it make him a hapless romantic to think that?

 

Probably.

_∞_

 

It happens so fast Yamada almost misses it in the throng of people.

 

They’re at a festival, him and Chinen and Keito.  They had invited Yuto too who had declined their invitation and now he knows why.  The bright, vivid, rich orange hair paired with the solid, muted cerulean blue hat had caught the corner of his eyes from a distance as the three of them walked by, making Yamada pause mid-destination as his head turns to follow that striking combination of color, unable to look away until his eyes meet the familiar face of Yuto, realizing that the owner of the striking color combination could only be Kwon Jiyong.  Who else could pull of such colors?  The Gods know Yamada only dresses in blacks and whites and dark solid colors.

 

He watches behind his sunglasses as Yuto’s face brightens, lighting up as the two of the walk closely side by side, undisturbed as they talk.  They look comfortable being in each other’s space and Yamada thinks to himself that this is probably the reason why Yuto is finally happy again.

 

“Ryosuke?”  Keito asks.  His two friends has stopped and is now watching him, questions in their eyes.

 

He shakes his head to clear his thoughts.  “Let’s go.”

 

One final discreet glance back and he sees Yuto unable to keep a grin off his face.

 

Good for him.

 

He deserves all the happiness he can get, society be damned.

 

_\----_

**Author's Note:**

> So, this came about basically because I love the idea of bad boy G-Dragon with innocent boyband idol Yuto. It was supposed to be short and sweet and instead it turned into this huge monster. It's not the work I'm most fond of but it's the one I worked the hardest on. My writing generally falls between 1500-7000 words so you can imagine how frustrated I felt when the story would not end. Actually, I gave up on this a few times.
> 
> Anyhow, it's not the fic I had first imagined but I labored so much I am absolutely proud of it if nothing else.
> 
> Final Note: I don't know anything about Kiko (but I weirdly still ship her with GD in RL?) so I just wanted to point out that her portrayal is through the character's eyes (which is not always reliable). I don't have anything against her, is what I'm saying =)


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